Orion

         Prologue

         The year is 2078.  It is a time of great international turmoil worldwide.  Many nations are rising out of the frameworks of the devastated countries from the past.  Only thirty countries still exist from before the Sheltering Pact of 2037, including America, Russia, and France.  Most of the new nations fall peacefully into place with the rest of the world, but there are some small nations who try to gain military or political superiority over the rest of the newer countries. 

This was then why the United Nations created the Valiant Treaty in the year 2041, allowing any oppressed nations to call for aid from the Global Army, nearly a billion members strong.  Any country, including America, trying to influence or control the small countries soon felt the wrath of the unstoppable force.  The Global Army was constantly growing, for when a country was accepted into the United Nations and declared a true country; they must submit three percent of their total population to add to the Global Army.  That way, each country was represented, no matter how minutely, in their own protection.

But even with the worldwide protection from the Army, some of the larger countries still employed well developed spying cells to infiltrate their rival countries and also on the original thirty countries.  But as well developed as these cells were, none were as extensive or as effective as America’s.  They had cells in almost every existing country, as well as priority units that were dispatched to troublesome countries, countries belligerent in nature.  But above all of that, the U.S.A. had one program that far surpassed everything previously thought of in the way of spying.

         Certain scientists were hand-selected by the government, for their skills in genetics and biology work, and given an almost impossible project.  Create through natural or artificial means, the ‘perfect’ secret agent.  At the peak of human condition in stamina, speed, intelligence, strength, and dexterity, that is what they were ordered to create for the government of the U.S., for whatever purposes they deemed fit.

         For years, these scientists worked on the complex structure of the DNA that they wanted to produce, running thousands upon thousands of tests, both on the DNA and on existing spies of extremely high caliber, in order to splice them both together to create the government’s ‘perfect’ agent.  Finally, after 21 years of sleepless nights and backbreaking labor, both physical and mental, they had created what they believed to be what the government ordered them for.

         They took the DNA and transplanted it into living human tissue in an accelerated growth chamber.  On some instinctual level, one of the scientists convinced the others to create a second agent, for fear if the first got out of hand, the second would provide a fail-safe security measure.  The next day, a second chamber was activated to harness the second agent.  After one month, the two ‘agents’ were developed enough in the stage of birth to be brought out of the chambers.  What would normally be considered normal children were born artificially from the test tubes of the facility.

         Immediately, the babies were injected with the proper growth hormones and protein balances that the scientists had prepared just for them.  While their DNA held the potential to become the most advanced humans in existence, they still had to be fed chemicals that would accelerate their development, to fully harness their power at a young age and begin to train them with seasoned pros in the espionage business.

         At the age of four, both of them were working at developing their bodies into the perfect killing machines, enrolled in every martial art available to them and also in yoga, to give them added flexibility.  At the age of seven, they were both mastering college level math and science courses.  At eight, they started training with professional mercenaries of the art of stealth and weaponry training.  At eleven, they were fully certified as beginner killers, a rank that most assassins worked at for years to help them to get better.  Within two months, they were undisputed Class S assassins, the highest attainable in assassin prowess.  At thirteen, they were sent on minor spying missions with other operatives to ensure that nothing happened to their mental attitudes to indicate that they enjoyed the killing that they did.  Most of their missions were Class D, manual labor in a small drug ring to gather information, or Class C, escort jobs for military personnel to ensure safety, but they were assigned four Class B missions, missions where they were sent to actually eliminate targets instead of just escorting or gathering information, just to prepare them for a Class A mission.  The scientists and government were under strict orders not to allow them on a Class A mission until the age of 15 for their own safety, and to allow them to keep developing their skills.  But out of the 74 missions of Class D, C, and B, they not only performed them flawlessly, but also returned without a scratch on their bodies, even when sent against a well-defended stronghold of a county governor that had overstepped his bounds.

         Because of their amazing record, and that last fact, the higher-ups in the government allowed the go ahead for a Class A mission for the two of them.  They were only two weeks before their fourteenth birthdays.  By now, their bodies had responded well to the chemicals that the scientists had given them.  While they were no means exceptionally strong by look, their muscles could be used to fullest capacity, whereas a normal human can only use about 20% of their muscle power.  They would fit well in the role of the mission they needed to complete.  It entailed them working with two other adult agents, one male and one female, to act like a small family in order to topple a well entrenched drug ring, by getting through the children of the drug lord.  Within one week, they had gained access to the house of the drug lord, and had planted bugs in all of the phones and hacked his encrypted computer.

         They believed their mission complete, when the older operatives received a communication from Central HQ.  Their new mission objective, eliminate all members of the drug lords family and close staff immediately.  The elder agents were told to let the two ‘children’ complete this part of the mission.  While very apprehensive about this, the agents complied, and the two set off immediately, weaponless.

         The next morning, the two returned, just as the news reporters were reporting the deaths of all forty-seven staff and family members at the manor of the drug lord.  All of the dead were physically battered from what the news reporters claimed was a band of at least fifty men, but the agents knew differently.  The entire journey home was spent in silence on all parties, uncomfortable in the adults, emotionless in the case of the two experiments.

         When they returned to HQ, the elder operatives reported across the board mission success for the two, but attached a cautionary note to the bottom of their report.  They stated that the two were far more powerful than the scientists said they should be at this point in their development.  This stunned many of the scientists that had been on the project, and missions were cancelled for the two, named Alpha and Beta by their creators, but the Hunting Twins by the operatives who had formerly worked alongside them, until this breakthrough could be analyzed.

         A psychiatrist was called in to analyze the two of them, who hadn’t uttered a word for the week that they had been back.  At the end of the session, the psychiatrist pronounced them fit for a return to duty, saying that Beta, the agent created at the last minute, was unaffected by the act that he had just committed, and Alpha had only a twinge of sorrow for the act, but still ready to continue work.  Alpha and Beta were then assigned another A mission to double-check their growing powers.

         Within the next year, Alpha and Beta were assigned another two-dozen C-rank missions, thirteen B-ranks, and three more A-ranks.  Their mission totals now numbered 49 D-ranks, 45 C-ranks, 17 B-ranks, and 5 A-ranks, a number unheard of in the entire career of most spies, completed in two years by these two engineered agents.  Nearing their fifteenth birthdays, the day that they would normally be given an A-rank mission, the scientists requested a true test for their experimental agents.  A mission classified usually for seven alliances of special ops, thirty-five people total, for just these two.  They requested an S-rank mission, a mission of vital importance to wipe out severe global terrorism. 

The mission they chose was one that baffled the United States spy network for years.  A group of fanatical environmentalists had gathered together and gone into hiding, but not before completely exterminating the factory country Imati with a dangerous chemical weapon that just destroyed humans, to the last child.  The U.S. has been tracking them, but the group, titled Help Earth, has always been a step ahead of their men.  HQ relented the day before the twins’ birthday, and they were immediately assigned to it.

         Until now, they had made no requests for items before a mission, but what they asked for shocked the scientists and government alike.  They requested two military limit lifters; items that were made to allow normal humans to become as strong as Alpha and Beta.  The government delayed their mission starting date as they debated about whether to grant this request.  The government was afraid, and rightly so, for if the two of them used the lifters, their battle prowess would be mind-boggling, nigh impossible to stop with anything short of a full-scale army.  But a compromise was reached in the end.  The lifters were granted, but two full alliances of operatives, ten battle-hardened troopers, would accompany the twins, to ensure that they did not squander this power unwisely.

         For three months, these dozen teammates followed the tracks of Help Earth, without much luck.  But one lucky break did come through when Beta found a dead village, killed in the exact same way as the country of Imati.  The hunt was on.

         The twins pushed the ten troopers to their limits physically as they raced against time to catch the fleeing terrorists.  One night, the two decided to press on long after the troopers had to stop to rest.  Picking up the pace from what they had been previously been at with the troopers, covering about one mile every six minutes, even with gear, they now were covering one mile every four to four and a half minutes.  Within three hours of this pace, they eventually caught up to a faint group of lights in a large circle.  Slowing down when they neared, they discovered it to be their missing terrorist group, but they also discovered something more.  It wasn’t only the terrorists; it was their entire families traveling with them at a feverish pace, stopping only shortly each night, just barely keeping ahead of the pursuing troopers.

         The occupants of the camp were bone-thin, and wore ragged clothing that was more patches than actual clothing.  They were all exhausted, but their fear, evident in their actions, words, and faces, kept them pressing on until they collapsed or reached freedom.  Both Alpha and Beta noted these facts, but they also noted that they were all completely unarmed, no weapons at all.  The Hunters decided to lie in wait and tail the group until the ten troopers finally caught up, a good five hours away at their fastest pace.  The two agreed on shifts to sleep, to regain their lost energy from their massive distance covered this night.  Alpha was the first to take watch, and four hours later, it was Beta’s turn.  Only one hour into his sleep though, he was awoken by the screams of hundreds of dying humans.

         Alpha was instantly up, but didn’t even need to look around for who was making it.  The camp of terrorists was burning, and they were all dying; blood and ripped limbs littered the ground inside the camp.  Alpha was appalled at the intensity of the destruction as he walked through the camp, searching for the perpetrator of this heinous deed.  He didn’t have to search long.

         In the center of the camp were two figures, one that was quickly dismembered by hand by the other figure.  Alpha saw his twin, Beta; calmly wipe the blood off of his hands on the coat of the dead man.  There was a clattering of weaponry behind them, and they turned to see the ten troopers pointing their rifles at them, but looking extremely sick in the cases of the newer operatives, who had never seen such brutal killing.

         One of the soldiers, Captain Baeg, recalls the two of them arguing for what seemed like an eternity, when finally, Beta used the limit lifter.  ‘His eyes, they were like looking at the Devil himself when he used the boost,’ Baeg said, “boost” being the term operatives used for military limit lifters, ‘and it was horrible.  I felt like he was going to kill me just by staring at me, with those eyes, those burning eyes.’

         And Beta would have killed the man too, if it hadn’t been for Alpha stepping in and confronting Beta on that bloody ground.  Beta lunged at Alpha, at an impossible speed, but Alpha just calmly sidestepped, used the limit lifter, and waited for the next strike.  Baeg and the other soldiers were terrified watching this fight, because every time Alpha or Beta hit the ground, the entire campsite vibrated with the blow, as if the earth itself were fighting with them.

         But one lucky break did come through for Alpha.  A frightened soldier, high on nerves and fear, accidentally let fly a shot from his rifle, which caused Beta to pause to consider the trooper.  And then the fight was over.  In that moment of weakness, Alpha lunged forward and shattered Beta’s rib cage with his fist.

         The soldiers returning from the mission reported that Alpha then gave himself up without a fight, even though he could have killed all ten of them.  Alpha and Beta, still alive, were then taken back and had the lifters removed from their bodies, and then had restrictors placed upon them, to lower their abilities to those of a natural human.  Alpha, who was only injured by a nasty gash over his right eye from a jagged rock, was mind-altered first.  Mind-altering was safer than a complete wipe, because it could provide a background story for the years lost in the mind, rather than leaving a memory gap.  Beta, on the other hand, needed extensive bone reconstruction over his entire chest, and then was mind-altered.

         The project was disbanded by the higher ups in the government, and the scientists went back to smaller projects within the spy business, believing that their entire last sixteen years were a failure.  But unbeknownst to them, the government had authorized the start of another project of the same caliber.  Another engineered spy had been created exactly one year after the authorization of Alpha and Beta.  This spy was trained in a completely different fashion from the first two.

         This spy was trained along with professional operatives, just like Alpha and Beta, but this agent was trained in completely non-lethal fashion, never exposed to death of any kind.  This agent’s fifteenth birthday was coming up, and the first class A-rank mission for this operative was fast approaching.  The mission:  investigate the rouge nation of Wranor, a new nation barely larger than a village in the mountains, but sitting on top of an old nuclear storehouse for Siberian troops.  Gather information on Count Von Imacin’s plans without being caught, find out any contacts to the plans, and get out alive.

         The Count is in Paris, France on business, staying in the Ambassadorial Suite, well defended and monitored.  The mission should be simple for an engineered agent, but situations could always arise that would compromise the mission’s safety.

         But more than the safety of the agent rests on the success of this mission; the fate of the world could be at hand.  A lot rests on this agent’s shoulders, for her legacy is just beginning.



Chapter 1

Paris, France

2157 Hours



         A shadowy figure sat huddled on the rooftop of one of Paris’ many office buildings.  He was unremarkable in appearance, grungy even, in his tattered brown overcoat with many holes and tears, his scuffed boots, and his unremarkable wool cap.  To anyone watching him, if anyone, he appeared asleep, for he hadn’t moved in over five hours, not even to ease the pressure off of his aching legs.

         Sleep was the last thing on his mind right now.  He had a mission to accomplish, and he would fulfill it.  In the hem of the collar of his coat was sewn a small microphone, and in his ear was an earpiece that connected him to the communications channel of his other teammates.  In his arms he cradled a new issue, matte black, AR 2-D7 sniper rifle, nicknamed the Ranger, trained on a building within eyesight of his position.  That building was the Paris Ambassadorial Suite, home now to Count Heinrich von Imacin, the ruler of Wranor.

         The earpiece buzzed in his ear, alerting him to another of his team coming online.  “Tempest static and eyes open,” he reported.

         The answer came back curtly.  “Gadget online as guardian angel.”

         Tempest smiled.  “Well it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to be watched over by you.”

         Gadget’s response was instantaneous.  “I never said I was watching you.  I’m doing my job and looking for Bravo One.”  Gadget paused.  “But you do need to watch where you’re pointing that Ranger; otherwise the guards will spot you.”

         Tempest grinned.  “So you were watching over me.”

         The line was silent, and Tempest also fell silent, contemplating the specifics of the mission.  Late night passerby walked past the dimly lit streetlights of the Paris streets, oblivious to the huddling figure above their heads.  At a nearby café, a teenage boy sat sipping a fresh cup of coffee, watching the pedestrians with little curiosity.  Every now and then, his head would follow the path of a teenage girl, but he never stared long.

         For some reason, this boy rang alarm bells in Tempest’s head.  Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to be waiting for just the right person to pass by, or maybe it was the fact that he had been sitting in that same chair for four hours now, not even leaving for the bathroom.  Tempest had been keeping tabs on the boy, and was severely hoping that he wasn’t an opposing spy.  Opposing governments had been known to use children for missions, particularly Great Britain, because they proved invaluable in a world full of adults.

         Tempest clicked his tongue to alert Gadget to something new on the front.  “Gadge, there’s this kid sitting at the café that just bugs me.  He hasn’t left for over four hours, and I think he could be trouble.  Could you watch him?”

         “I’ll send PH out to monitor him, but he’s not our concern right now.  We have to make sure things don’t get out of hand tonight.  This is make or break for our organization.  If this fails, we’re discharged.”

         Tempest sighed.  “I know, but what about…” Another civilian walking along the Paris streets caught his eye.  “Stand by, stand by.  Possible sighting of Bravo One.”

         Angling the scope of his sniper down that way, Tempest’s eyes widened.  “Confirm that sighting.  Bravo One on time and foxtrot along the street outside the Suites.”

         “Finally.”  Gadget sounded the least bit annoyed.  “Now Hunter will get off of my back about mission status.”

         Tempest smiled slightly, when his alarm sense went off again.  The young man who had been sitting at the café was now up and following his target.  “The boy might be more trouble than you think, Gadge.  He’s foxtrot behind Bravo One.”

         “PH online and foxtrot behind mystery kid.”

         Tempest allowed himself to relax as the familiar sight of Powerhouse, PH for short, cantered into view, acting the part of a drunken man returning home from a long day of work.  If the kid interfered, PH, with no doubts, would take him out.

         The kid in question had been sitting at the café all day doing what he called ‘sightseeing’.  As long as he always paid for a new coffee, the manager didn’t mind.  But that had changed when this newcomer had crossed his path.  This young beauty piqued his curiosity.  She had a presence about her that intrigued him.  So he got up to go talk to her.

         She stopped at the gate to the Paris Ambassadorial Suites, where a foreign embassy was staying right now, as the boy well knew.  The young man stopped and pondered things.  “Well now Ephraim, what have you snagged now?  She doesn’t look like embassy staff.  French, American maybe?”  His voice reassured him as he started walking again towards this beautiful girl.

         She glanced up at him, and he stopped, smirking confidently, hoping that maybe that she would come back to talk to him.  But she turned around and kept walking along the road.  Ephraim blinked slowly.  “Okay, maybe she didn’t see me,” he whispered to himself.

         He kept following her along the road, when she turned into a darkened side street, and Ephraim felt himself go hot under the collar.  “Maybe she did see me, and wants our first meeting to be a little more private…” His voice trailed off as he turned into the side street, to face a fence and two trashcans overflowing with trash.  Mice were everywhere in the garbage, but there was no sign of the girl.

         Ephraim stood there for a moment, mind racing to catch up with facts in front of him.  “Did I just imagine her?”  He shook his head to clear it, and then walked back to the café, nearly running smack dab into a large man as he exited the alley.  He swaggered in front of Ephraim, clearly drunk, put kept moving, humming tunelessly to himself.  Ephraim raised his nose in disgust; the man reeked of booze and sweat, not a pleasant olfactory experience for the refined taste of the teen.

         From on top of one of the alleyway buildings, a lone figure stood looking down at the two figures.  She finished donning the remainder of her stealth gear, a cloth for around her face to disguise her features.  She smiled, thinking about the confused look the boy had had when he rounded the corner to the empty alleyway.  It hadn’t been hard to lose him here, with many catwalks and old ladders to propel her ascent to the roof.

         “I wonder what he wanted,” she whispered to herself, but quickly dismissed the thought.  “It doesn’t matter; I have a job to do.”

         Leaving her pack where it was, the secret agent moved silently along the roof, her footfalls masked by the clanking of air conditioners and heaters on the exposed area.  Little did she know that she was being watched from a neighboring rooftop.  As she neared the end of her roof, she sized up the empty space around the Embassy Suites.  The buildings in the general vicinity of the Suites had been kept to two stories or less, for the specific purpose for no one to try the stunt she was about to pull.  There were no buildings conceivably in range for anyone to possibly jump from one to another, and the anti-air flak cannons trained on the sky would shoot down any Han glider attempting to land on the roof.  The agent shivered.  It was such a gruesome way to die.

         “Come on, Lily, pull yourself together.  You can’t back down now.  Control’s waiting to show Central that I’m not a screw-up.  I have to make her proud.”

         Lily backed up slightly, and took a deep breath.  She opened her eyes, which held a new fire, a spark of defiance that dared the doubt to come back into her head.  Sizing up the distance one more time between her roof and the Embassy’s, she broke into a swift run.  She accelerated until she reached the end of the roof, and then leapt.  She arced through the air, soaring across the distance like a bird.  She flipped forward as she flew, sending her sliding silently across the Embassy roof safely as she landed.  She cleared the gap easily, with more than thirty feet to spare.

         Back on his roof, Tempest whistled softly to himself.  “That was insane,” he whispered.

         “What?”  Gadget’s voice rang loud to Tempest’s pounding ears.  Watching that jump proved to him just how dangerous she could be.

         “Bravo One just pulled off a jump that would challenge Hunter.  Forty-five feet at least.  And pulled it with almost that much to spare.”

         There was silence on the line.  “Intriguing.  Trained for speed, do you think?”

         “Most definitely.  But the question is, can she keep up with Hunter and I?”

         “Hunter and me,” Gadget reprimanded sharply.  “The proper grammar is ‘Hunter and me’, not ‘Hunter and I’.”

         “Sorry,” Tempest said sarcastically, watching the agent’s progress across the roof to the sky view windows high above ground floor.  She had pulled out a small laser cutter, an item she then proceeded to use to cut through the glass right above the window latch.  He saw her lift out a small semicircle of glass, then pause.

         Lily froze.  She had been about to open the window to allow her access to the room below, but now she heard voices coming closer, and her fears were confirmed when the door handle rattled below and in walked two figures.

         The first was unknown to her, but she could tell that it was a male.  He walked with a slight limp, and wore bulky clothing, cleverly concealing everything else about his body.  His face was long, with sharp eyes that noticed everything at ground level, hidden slightly behind wire-thin glasses.  In his hands was a small metal box.  Lily made a note of it.  Could be trouble.

         The second man Lily did recognize, from the briefing she was given.  This man was tall, with a regal bearing and confidence oozing from every pore on his body.  His clothing reeked of richness, from the hand-tailored silk suit, to the dark leather shoes, to the black embroidered cloak across his back.  He wore a monocle over his right eye and his black hair was slicked back.  He held a decorated cane in his left hand, a skull for the topper.  Count Heinrich von Imacin of Wranor shut the door behind the two of them.

         Lily placed her ear against the hole in the window as their voices drifted up to her.  They were speaking in French, which, luckily, was one of the few languages Lily did know.  One of the few she had memorized at age seven.

         “Welcome to my humble abode, Scientist,” the Count was saying, leading the mystery man to an ornate wooden desk.

         Glancing around at the priceless artifacts and paintings, the man smiled.  It never reached his eyes.  “Humble indeed.  Now, what is so important to your organization this time, Count?  More lifters, perhaps?”

         “No, nothing so conventional.  How would you feel about joining the forces of Project Sunir?”

         The scientist raised a hand to his chin.  It was covered in scars and stitches.  “It would take some consideration, not to mention time to tie up some unfinished business and some loose ends.”

         The Count pulled out a manila envelope and slid it across the desk.  “This is everything you would be doing on the project.  How much would it cost to make this your highest priority?”

         The scarred hand reached out and thumbed through the first few pages inside the envelope.  This time, his smile reached his eyes, which shone with a fanatical light.  “For this, not much.  And besides, who could pass up an opportunity to work for the great Count von Imacin?”  He slid the papers back in, and handed the folder back to the Count.

         “Excellent.  Let’s go down to the labs to discuss the terms of our agreement.”  Opening a small concealed drawer in the desk, he dropped the envelope unceremoniously into it.  Rising and grabbing his cane, he escorted his guest back out of the office, and Lily heard the distinct click of a lock.

         Seizing her chance, Lily raised the window, setting it silently open on its upper counterpart.  She pulled climbing rope off of her belt where she had carefully coiled it, attaching one end to the ledge, and tossing the rest into the spacious office below.  It uncoiled to just above the floor.  Lily slipped on a pair of cut-off gloves, pulling them tight around her hands.  She then wrapped some of the rope loops around her left hand, keeping it loose, and held it uncoiled in her right.  Then she jumped.

         The descent was short and fast, but completely controlled by Lily’s dexterous hands and the rope she held.  She dropped lightly for the last meter, eliciting a soft whumph from the plush carpet.  She was glad for the luxury, if only to mask her footfalls even more from any prying ears.

         Lily found the opening to the secret drawer easily enough, upon knowing where to start looking.  She opened it slowly, wary of any traps, of which there were none.  In this drawer was the manila envelope she had previously seen, and there was also a small necklace locket, shaped like an oval.  She tried to open it, but it wouldn’t pry open.  She moved to the envelope, pocketing the locket in her belt without thinking.

         The envelope was plain, except for the word SUNIR branded across the front, and the word “Greed” on the flap.  On the back was a strange symbol, most likely the Sunir crest.  The right half of the symbol was a sun with semicircle and small arrow rays blacked out.  The left half was a black crescent moon, connected to the sun by the tapered ends.  Lily pulled open the folder, viewing the documents inside with a trained eye, spotting many dates and times, along with red lettered names and places.

         Although capable of memorizing the vast amount of information, given time, Lily procured a small digital camera from another of her various pouches and immediately began photographing the contents.    She then placed the folder back in its drawer, exactly as she had seen the Count do, and closed the drawer.

         “Well, well.  An uninvited guest.”

         Lily whirled, amazed that both she had been so careless, and also that the Count had gotten back in the room without her knowledge.  He was smiling coldly, like he had been waiting for her the entire time, and that she had fallen for his trap.

         “Have you had a fun time looking around, my dear?  Because visiting hours are over.  If you would be so kind as to turn yourself over to my guards, I’m sure that I could lighten your prison sentence.”

         Lily made a break for the rope hanging not three feet from behind and above her, flipping through the air to grab it.  There was a whoosh of air right above her head, and the chunk of rope that she had grabbed instantly lost slack, tumbling her to the ground.  She landed nimbly in a crouch, looking for what happened.  The skull topper of the Count’s cane smiled crookedly down at her, where the concealed sword had severed the rope (and nearly her life!).  She blinked, confused.  She had never even seen Heinrich von Imacin move, and yet he had nearly killed her.  A very dangerous enemy.

         The Count tapped the scabbard; bottom half of the cane, impatiently on the ground.  “If you persist in trying to escape, I will not miss the next time.  Now, why not tell me your name, my dear?  I need to call you that if I am to kill you.  Otherwise, it would not be honorable.”

         In answer, Lily stood up; pulled the sword out of the picture it had impaled, and leveled it at the Count, determination in her eyes.

         Out on his roof, the one called Tempest tightened his grip on his own weapon, a cold knot of sickness starting to roil in his gut.  He didn’t want to have to fulfill his mission if he could help it, but things seemed to be taking a turn for the worse.

         Back in the office, a worried smile flitted across the Count’s face.  He wasn’t expecting that response.  “Very well.  Guards!”

         The doors burst open, and seven guards in the royal colors of Wranor trooped in, ceremonial swords at their waists, and semi-automatic rifles across their chests.  They whipped these off in a calculated manner, their perimeter of the room perfect in stopping her escape from the open doors.  She raised an eyebrow.  For a small, not very rich nation, Wranor certainly pulled out all the stops when it came to their Count.

         She took quick account of the changed situation, and dropped the sword, hilt first, to the ground.  What the guards didn’t see was that she balanced it on her toes, ready for her attack.  She quickly rubbed her wrists, making sure that her surprise was still there.

         Three of the guards, two near her, and one at the door itself, moved forward cautiously, not wavering in their duties for her capture.  She waited until the last moment, and then flicked four small needles from her wrist bracers into her fingers, flinging them with perfect accuracy into the firing pin of the rifles of the four motionless guards, stopping their immediate reactions.  The other three jerked away from her, drawing new beads on her as she flicked the sword back to her hands, whipping out incredibly fast and catching all three guns on the muzzles, and bending the metal far enough to disallow bullet passage.

         So stunned were the near guards at her proficiency that the first two didn’t even feel her fingers jab into their nerve center at the point where the spine meets the skull, not even when they had passed out from their bodies shutting down.  The guard who had taken up refuge behind the pillar on Lily’s left saw her dash to the right, but suddenly she was right in front of him, leveling him to the ground with a well placed palm strike to his forehead and gut.  By the time he had hit the carpet, Lily was already at her next target.  This man, a master of three types of martial arts, managed to block seven of Lily’s strikes, to his credit, but even he couldn’t stop her from stiff locking his legs and shattering his knees with one leg.

         Lily spun away from the screams of pain, catching the throat of the next man with her tensed fingers, sending him gurgling away, trying to breathe.  The remaining two guards leveled their decorative swords at Lily, who rolled her eyes at their stupidity.  The first one tried an overhead chop, which Lily stopped with a two handed grip on the falling blade.  A quick flip of her wrists, and a moment later, and she now wielded the sword against the last standing guard.  She didn’t hesitate, but batted away his pathetic guard, snapped the flat of the blade against the bare flesh of his hands, and took his sword as he dropped it.  With all seven guards dispatched, Lily heaved the two blades at the Count, missing deliberately and landing them in the pillars next to him.  She barely glanced back as she took a running leap and grabbed the slightly shorter rope as she arced.  When she did look down, she had her camera in hand, and snapped a quick photo of the Count’s face, a mixture of befuddlement, rage, and intrigue.

         Lily climbed the rope even swifter than she had planned, mostly from the adrenaline flow just now entering her system, but also so more guards didn’t come running in while she fled.  She smiled beneath her mask as she incinerated the rope, leapt back across the gap between buildings, barely clearing the edge due to the raised height, and raced silently across five building roofs.  When she was far enough away, she removed her black outfit, folding it and placing it back in her small backpack, and climbing down a fire ladder.  She retraced her steps back to the Embassy Suites, where the alarm was on, jogging slightly past it with a concerned look on her face.  No sense giving it all away now.

         If she had been watching her path instead of the havoc, she would have seen the boy long before, but instead, she plowed headfirst into him, knocking them both to the ground.

         “I’m so sorry!  I should have been watching where I was going!” Lily spouted hastily.

         “It’s okay.  Are you alright?”  The voice from the boy came from above her; he was already standing again, holding his hand down to lift her up.  She gave a start when she realized it was the one who had been trailing her earlier.

         She took his hand awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as she stood.  “My name’s Ephraim.  What’s yours?”  He said politely.  Lily thought his accent sounded slightly Germanic, but couldn’t place its origin.

         She was about to respond when the Embassy gates opened and out poured dozens of guards.  Lily thought she recognized two of them from the Count’s office.  “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, “But I have to go.”

         She pushed past him and started to jog a little faster down the road.  Ephraim just stood there, watching her pass and disappear.  One of the guards approached Ephraim.  “Sir, excuse me.  Did you just…”

         Ephraim interrupted him.  “Meet the most amazing young woman?  Yes, I did.”

         From his vantage point high above the streets, Tempest sat silently, his grip now relaxed on the AR 2-D7, but his hands shaking.  He watched as the guards, and then the mystery kid dispersed back to whence they came.  After another hour, he finally stood up, legs popping the entire way.  “Stand by, stand by,” he whispered into the coat mike.

         “What now, Tempest?”

         The one called Tempest smiled in delight.  “Tell Hunter this.  The mission was a complete and utter success.”